Paradise Falling

20 -- Candlelight Dinner

I will have to tread carefully but went too far out to back down. "What did Marcel steal from you?"

"What difference does it make?"

"Let's call it an incentive. I risked my life for you today and once you find Jackson, which you undoubtedly will, I'd be willing to try again, but I want to know if it's worth it for me? You said you want to kill Marcel, but right now, that could be a lie to secure my cooperation."

"Why would I lie?" He sips from his water, his gaze locked on mine.

"Maybe you want to get your hands on his money, then rough him up a little and call it a day. What guarantees do I have that you follow through? Knowing the stakes could put my mind at ease."

This time, the smile reaches his eyes. "Very nice. I like women who fight for what they want, even when knowing that it could bite them in the ass in the long run."

"Then what did Marcel steal?"

"Do you know what a NOC list is?"

"Sure. It's a database with info on all the covert agents of the US government."

"The Crimson Disciples have something similar. Not sure if Marcel told you, but we operate in crews. They are isolated groups that work mostly independently of each other."

I nod. "He said that this would guarantee that no one in the organization knows too much in case one of you is caught or decides to snitch." Damage control to ensure that the Disciples couldn't be taken down from the inside.

"Our NOC list contains the exact make-up of these crews. Who is in charge, what markets they operate in, their customer contacts, and so on. It also includes the locations of our safe houses and our dead drops. Needless to say, in the wrong hands, this information could prove deadly, and for both governments and our competitors, such intel is invaluable."

"Are you telling me that Marcel got his hands on your NOC list?" Now it all makes sense. His smug smile, the triumphant glow in his eyes, his boastful claim that the Disciples couldn't mess with him.

"It was his insurance policy to start a new life and it almost worked. Icarus ordered that Marcel was not to be touched as long as we didn't have a location on the stolen data, plus Marcel did a superb job of dropping from the face of the Earth without a trace. The identities he built for you guys were solid. If he had just stayed the course, chances are we would've never found you."

"Then what happened?"

"He got greedy. Started to sell intel to the highest bidder, which triggered an international manhunt. Governments wanted him because he had the tools to take down the Disciples, competitors were eager to take over our networks, and we were scrambling for survival. Over night, Marcel turned into our enemy number one, and finding him was an absolute priority."

"Which brought you to Hong Kong."

"Unfortunately, yes, but the death of your son was not on us."

"So the man in the warehouse who shot Sean wasn't one of yours?"

"He wasn't a Disciple." Bastian's face is even and his eyes are clear of deceit; if I didn't know better, I would believe him.

I slurp my cocktail, a tart concoction of tequila and juices the waiter called Strawberry Mollusk. The icy liquid on my tongue manages to keep me calm. How should I proceed? The prudent thing would be to go home, a move that would set me back to square one. My other option is to keep up my game, swallow his story and pretend all is good between us even though the little trust we built just went down the drain.

Once again, I'm fucked no matter what way I turn.

I stare into the dark bayou, the candle flickering in my peripheral vision. Mumbling voices and clattering silverware drift across the terrace from the neighboring tables. Some of these words are honest conversations, others bullshit to keep up a false narrative. It's always the same. Just like everything else in life, candlelight dinners are simply a means to an end. The magic they offer dissipates as soon as the candles are blown out.

I turn back to Bastian and smile. "I'm glad you told me the truth. I don't think I could've continued working with you if the Disciples had been responsible for my son's death." The lie flows easily from my lips and I even manage to stroke the back of his hand, even if looking into his eyes now makes me sick. "If you'd excuse me. I have to use the bathroom."

Asking a server for directions, I find the restrooms in the back of the restaurant. After relieving myself, I stare into the mirror as I wash my hands. To give Bastian credit, he did fill in a lot of the gaps that had been missing from Conor's files. If he had just been truthful about Sean . . .

A woman steps next to the sink beside me and our gazes meet in the mirror. Despite the buzz cut, she is quite pretty with cloud-blue eyes that are calming. Turning off the water, I dry my hands. She steps behind me. Too close for comfort. About to ask her to give me some space, she leans even closer.

Her warm breath brushes my ear and for the second time today, the muzzle of a gun presses against my spine. "If you want to live, don't make a sound."

Total WP word count: 22,067

So the truth about Marcel's deeds has been spilled; where you surprised by the revelation or did you expect something like that? Also, it appears that Chelsea has attracted some more trouble. Who do you think the woman is working for and why is she holding a gun to Chelsea's back? Let me know your thoughts/theories in the comments and please consider a vote if the chapter deserved it. Thanks for reading and keep an eye on the next update!